Chapter 134 : But You’re Jealous, Aren’t You?
Chapter 134: But You’re Jealous, Aren’t You?
They said the brother takes after the younger one.
Taeyoon had turned the clumsy hip-hop warrior, Tae Sihyun, into the queen of techno rock—shaking up the entire industry, including Tomorrow Entertainment.
As if that weren’t enough, Dongyoon shocked Tomorrow Entertainment with an even stranger move—he used his golden “free pass,” once considered a guaranteed ticket to success, to resign.
“Th-That crazy bastard!”
“But you’re jealous, aren’t you?”
“Damn, look at that nerve—switching jobs right when his value’s peaking!”
“Director Han, what the hell happened?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”
No one knew better than him how fast rumors spread in this business.
Still, this time they spread too fast.
Just a week after his resignation—
Love calls began pouring in from everywhere.
So many scouting offers came in that his calendar was packed tight.
Major entertainment companies, mid-sized ones, even startups.
Publishing houses, content labs, digital media production firms—
If it had anything to do with music, they reached out.
‘…Why is this happening?’
Just yesterday, these were the same hands scrubbing floors like a rag, and now he was replying to scouting messages.
And how did it feel?
It felt good. Exhilarating, even.
Those five years he’d endured at Tomorrow Entertainment had come back to him as this flood of attention.
The countless dawns he’d spent with Taeyoon, immersed in music, hadn’t been wasted after all.
That alone was enough.
There was a company he’d been secretly considering, but—
‘Let’s hear what they’ve got to say first.’
His curiosity was piqued.
He met every representative who reached out.
Some were headhunters, some were startup executives.
And honestly, he was satisfied enough.
It felt like a dream made real.
“This salary should please you—it’s set at more than 1.5 times the industry average.”
“We’ve just created a new A&R Planning Team. Naturally, you’ll be the team leader, Mr. Seo Dongyoon.”
“Ha-ha. I’m sure the other companies only offered a team leader position. But we’re different—we thought you’d want something more fitting, like a Director title.”
“Team leader, Director—titles are just illusions. What matters are the tangible perks. How about an E-Class company car?”
The offers were dazzling.
Tempting, even.
But Seo Dongyoon wasn’t an idiot.
His instincts, honed by the hard-learned lesson that nothing in the world is free, reacted immediately.
‘…Just as I thought.’
It’s an old tradition—behind excessive treatment, there’s always a shady scheme.
And sure enough, by the end of every meeting, someone would always say something like:
“We heard you’re quite close with Composer Stay…”
“Rumor has it Tomorrow Entertainment was only able to work with Stay thanks to you, Mr. Seo.”
“Ah, and how exactly do you know Stay?”
“If collaboration with Composer Stay is possible, we can even raise your salary further.”
All that made him think was—
‘Director Han Ji-hyuk sure can keep his mouth shut.’
Thankfully, it seemed the man hadn’t revealed that they were brothers.
Anyway, he’d expected this much.
But there’s always someone who goes too far, right?
And today, he met exactly that type.
A notorious figure in the industry: Mr. Park.
A representative from the publishing company Daebak Sound, run by CEO Park Taekeun.
“Nice to meet you. I’m from Daebak Sound.”
He’d heard the name before.
One of CEO Park’s so-called right-hand men.
The man’s bony frame and twitchy demeanor were hardly the kind you’d praise, even out of politeness.
Wearing a suit so tight it looked sewn onto his skin, Seo Dongyoon found himself not knowing where to look.
“Yes, hello. I’m Seo Dongyoon.”
The man introduced himself as a Casting Director.
He claimed that those who create artists are artists themselves, so it was only natural that he, not HR, came to meet him.
That nonsense alone should’ve been a red flag.
But it was already too late.
“Ah, yes. Just as the rumors said. Exactly as we expected.”
“Yes, nice to meet you.”
As if it weren’t enough that he kept talking in circles only he understood—
“Seo Dongyoon… I heard Composer Stay’s real name is Seo Taeyoon. Funny, isn’t it, how similar your names are? Just a coincidence, I’m sure?”
—he even threw out a cheap provocation like that, followed by a sleazy grin.
But Seo Dongyoon wasn’t naive enough to take the bait.
If he were, he wouldn’t have survived five years at Tomorrow Entertainment. People there were masters of deceit.
And with deceit, the only proper response is more deceit.
“You should’ve told me earlier to bring a family register if you needed proof. I forgot to pack it.”
“Hahaha, very good. That makes this conversation easier.”
The Casting Director crossed his arms and set a white envelope on the table.
“Go ahead, open it.”
Seo Dongyoon hooked it with his finger and slid it open.
A company bold enough to toss bait right on the spot—
Now that was new.
Interesting.
Thinking that, he casually opened the envelope.
A single check.
Ten million won.
After confirming the contents, Seo Dongyoon quietly set it back on the table with a blank expression.
‘Did that catch his attention?’
The Casting Director, growing smug, spoke again.
“It’s the same treatment we give artists. Consider it a signing bonus.”
And before his words had even finished, he pulled the envelope slightly toward himself and added,
“Of course, this condition only applies if you join us together with Composer Stay. Depending on contract length and terms, we can even triple your signing bonus.”
Still, Seo Dongyoon said nothing.
He only looked down at the envelope.
The Casting Director misread his silence.
‘That look—he’s tempted.’
Good. This would make things easier.
No need to play humble.
Convinced he’d hooked him, the man finally got to his real point.
“Of course, Mr. Seo, we fully acknowledge your talent. But you know, right? The reason we can offer such generous terms is all thanks to the Tae Sihyun Project. I’m sure you’re aware.”
The Casting Director shrugged smugly.
But Seo Dongyoon was thinking something entirely different.
Why’s he shrugging like that?
Watching the man’s self-satisfied act, Dongyoon couldn’t help but feel speechless.
He wasn’t offended—
No, quite the opposite.
Stay. Seo Taeyoon.
The fact that everyone was looking for his brother—it actually felt good.
But the idea of getting a job riding on Stay’s name? That didn’t sit right with him.
Not pride, not loyalty—just a simple sense of self.
His brother was his brother, and he was himself.
So he politely stood to leave.
“I don’t think these terms are unreasonable. You won’t find a signing bonus like this anywhere else. So, shall we sign the contract right now?”
The man suddenly pulled a contract out of his bag.
Pfft.
He couldn’t hold back a laugh.
These people were gravely mistaken.
If there’s one thing he knew for sure—buying people with a bit of cash? That’s no fun at all.
Seo Dongyoon emptied the rest of his coffee in one gulp before replying.
“Daebak Sound is stingier than I thought, huh?”
“Pardon?”
“If there’d been one more zero, maybe. But ten million won for a five-year A&R veteran from Tomorrow Entertainment and Stay? Come on, that’s way too greedy.”
An eye for an eye, rudeness for rudeness.
That was how Seo Dongyoon had survived.
He left one final remark before rising from his seat.
“Bring at least a hundred million won as a signing bonus, and I’ll consider it. I was curious to see how much Daebak Sound could offer, but I’m honestly a little disappointed.”
A polite bow. Clean and precise.
That’s how Seo Dongyoon stood up and left.
The Casting Director from Daebak Sound stared at the lonely white envelope left on the table and thought,
‘…That punk’s got one hell of a mouth on him.’
A few hours later.
After the meeting, Seo Dongyoon returned home—and couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Hey, Seo Taeyoon.”
“What.”
“I can’t live like this. You’ve made a mess again. You’re not going out today?”
“Why are you trying to kick me out? I’m the head of this household.”
If only he could say that with a straight face.
‘How the hell is this guy Stay?’
He’d just spent the afternoon arguing with someone over Stay.
The whole industry was throwing bait everywhere to lure him in—
And yet here he was, sprawled on the sofa, shirt pulled up, listening to music like the world owed him nothing.
“You eat yet?”
“I waited for you.”
“It’s five o’clock.”
“One meal a day’s enough. I won’t die.”
He couldn’t bring himself to smack his little brother, but oh, did he want to.
Seo Dongyoon stared at him with the same deadpan look as a Tibetan fox meme.
Taeyoon’s hair was wild like a wandering sage, and he wore that same worn-out Adidas tracksuit.
Why did that thing keep coming back no matter how many times he threw it out?
And why were his eyes closed again?
His expression was so absorbed in the music that it brought to mind that phrase—“Music is the only thing the government has allowed us.”
In short—
“God, seriously…”
He was an eyesore.
“What’s wrong? Did you fight with Yeonhee-noona or something? Why’re you picking on me?”
“Forget it.”
“Let’s order chicken for dinner.”
Seo Dongyoon just shook his head and went into his room.
The whole world might be clamoring for Stay, but in his eyes, he was nothing more than a clueless kid brother.
“Haa…”
He sat down heavily on his bed and thought back to the day’s events.
That company, Daebak Sound—
Annoying as they’d been, he had to admit, they’d piqued his curiosity.
What kind of charm did they have that drew composers to them like a swarm of bees?
It couldn’t just be about the money.
Dongyoon fell deep into thought.
Every time something like this happened, he’d grumble to himself, “Damn it, I’m quitting this rotten industry…”
But truth was, he loved it more than anyone.
Sifting through thousands of songs to find a single gem—
Nothing else felt quite as rewarding.
‘Guess it’s true what they say—you can’t quit what you’ve learned to steal.’
He didn’t mean it badly.
It just meant he’d been in the business long enough to endure everything it threw at him.
Still, he didn’t want to return to a major entertainment company.
All those bloated, bureaucratic places with endless red tape—he wanted something sharper, quicker, more straightforward.
‘Though, who am I kidding? Places like that don’t exist…’
Out of habit, he started checking the websites of domestic entertainment agencies.
As expected, nothing really caught his eye.
Then, on the last one—Kim Entertainment’s homepage—
‘Huh? Kim Entertainment? That’s the one Taeyoon’s always hanging around. The place where the Cheongseong guys are, right?’
He spotted something interesting.
[ Publishing Label: Track Race ]
This was it.
Click.
He opened the job listing for a closer look.
It definitely stood out.
‘This looks pretty fun.’
He pulled his chair closer to the desk.
At first glance, it looked like any other job post—
Job overview, key responsibilities, all standard stuff.
But what really caught his attention wasn’t the tempting “industry-best treatment,” nor the bold “no education or experience requirements,” nor even the practical “looking for candidates with strong understanding of album production.”
It was these lines:
[ Blind Recruitment ]
[ Automatic disqualification if education or career history is listed ]
[ Hiring based on submitted project proposal ]
Those words made his eyes light up.
A place like this meant he wouldn’t have to ride on Stay’s name.
Even better—
‘Oh-ho, blind recruitment? This could be really interesting.’
A company that judged purely by ideas and planning—its fairness alone spoke volumes about its values.
He’d heard rumors that Kim Entertainment was preparing to launch a new label.
He hadn’t realized it would be a publishing label.
That meant he could focus even more on the music itself.
After carefully reviewing the application details, Seo Dongyoon stepped out into the living room.
That strange flutter of excitement just wouldn’t settle down.
Taeyoon was still sprawled on the sofa, lost in his music.
Dongyoon nudged his brother’s waist lightly with his foot to bring him back to reality.
“Hey, get up for a sec.”
Taeyoon rubbed his eyes.
“Ah, what. Something wrong?”
“No, just… You’ve worked with Kim Entertainment before, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s it like there?”
Taeyoon blinked at the unexpected question before answering.
“The CEO buys really good food.”
Oh-ho, well then, that settles it.
Seo Dongyoon headed back to his room with a satisfied grin.